


Strays

by Tabithian



Series: Nine Lives [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-28
Updated: 2012-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-10 22:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/471617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over time Tim's learned the route Batman and Robin take on their patrol of the city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strays

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted as part of [Ink on Paper](http://archiveofourown.org/works/444047), I've decided to use this as part of Tim's origin story in the Nine Live 'verse because of reasons.

Over time Tim's learned the route Batman and Robin take on their patrol of the city. He has it mapped out in his head now, every roof top, every alley. Every spot in between where a small boy with an unhealthy obsession (Tim _knows_ , but he can't stop, and maybe that's worse?) can watch Gotham's Knights without being seen. 

The map started out as a rough sketch in a notepad, just a dotted line broken up by landmarks and noted written in code Tim devised. Something that could be broken easily enough by anyone who thought to look for one, that could pass for idle scribbling of a nine-year-old with too much time on his hands. (A treasure map, if asked, for a little boy's scavenger hunt.)

He has their route memorized, and a general idea of when it begins, when it ends, give or take a few minutes for a mugging here, a robbery there. He has their route memorized, perfect little spots picked out for the best viewing angle 

There's a quiet meow, down about ankle height, like the animal making the sound doesn't quite know how. 

Tim's on the roof of an apartment building, half-hidden in shadow from the taller buildings surrounding it. A smile touches his lips as he turns, crouches next to where a pile of debris near the roof access, camera resting against his chest, heavy and familiar.

"Hey, girl," he says, softly. "Haven't seen you for a while." School and other obligations taking him away from his...hobby, and there's a little guilt mixed in there too because that means he hasn't been able to get food to her.

Another meow, a little more confident now, and Tim smiles as a small ball of gray fluff squeezes out from behind the slats of an abandoned crate, bright eyes focused on Tim. She's tiny, no more than a few months old, if that. Tiny and scrawny and all on her own. (Tim _knows_ , but this. At least he can help _her_.)

The kitten rears up, planting tiny paws on his knee, face upturned to his as she meows, louder, more insistent. Tim laughs, scratching her ears, her chin. "Hey, girl," he says again, reaching into his jacket pocket. "I brought you some food." Leftover chicken and other choice tidbits that won't be missed.

He roots around the crate until he finds the little bowl he'd left there for her and carefully portions out the food. Waits until she goes for the food before taking the lid off the thermos and sets it down to pour water into it. The kitten breaks off from eating to meow up at him, food stuck to her whiskers, the fur around her mouth, like she's thanking him, and that.

"Well, well, well, what _do_ we have here?"

Tim slowly turns to see Catwoman perched on the edge of the roof, head tipped to one side. Her eyes narrow when she catches sight of his camera.

"Little late for you to be out, isn't it?" she asks, amusement dripping from her voice.

"Catwoman." He's seen her, on the nights he's followed Batman and Robin, a dark form flitting across Gotham's roofs like she's flying.

She smiles at him. "I'm afraid I don't have the advantage of your name." It's an unvoiced invitation, but.

Tim shakes his head, taking an involuntary step back when she walks closer, smooth and dangerous. "I. Sorry." He smiles. Catwoman hasn't. She isn't like the other criminals in Gotham, she isn't like Joker or Two-Face, but she's still a criminal, and Tim.

Catwoman pouts, stopping a few feet from him. "Hmm, well, I suppose I could always call you kitten, then, can't I?" There's laughter in her eyes, mischief.

"I. That works, I guess."

This time she does laugh, and. That's better than the alternative, right?

The smile he gets for that is clearly amused, but when she moves closer, suddenly there's a tiny ball of fur between them, puffed up and angry, hissing and spitting, claws out.

Catwoman looks down in surprise. "Looks like you have a guardian," she says, smile softening as the kitten growls a warning that has her backing up a step. "And such a fierce one at that."

Tim fidgets, the urge to grab the little kitten into his arms strong, but. This is Catwoman, and he doubts she'd do anything to the kitten. In fact. "Do. Can you." Tim can feel himself blushing when she raises an elegant eyebrow at him, lips pulled up into a smirk. "Can you take her?" he asks. "I found her in a drainage pipe, but I can't take her home with me." 

Tim knows his parents would never agree, and if he did broach the subject of getting a pet with them it would be one with a pedigree that could trace its bloodlines back generations, not some scrawny little alley cat. (And even they would notice the fact that there was a cat in the mansion after a while if he snuck her in.) 

Catwoman looks at him, eyes narrowed. "What makes you think I would do that?" she asks, but she's already crouching down, holding her hand out to the kitten who stops growling, curiosity already getting the better of her. Tim watches the kitten as she inches closer to Catwoman, wary, suspicious. 

Because you're Catwoman, Tim doesn't say. Because this stray needs a home, someone who will give her the attention she deserves, not the scraps Tim can offer her here and there. "She deserves a good home," Tim says with a shrug. "I can't give her that." 

Catwoman is focused on the kitten, watching it as it cautiously sniffs her fingers, pressing closer to bat at them with one small paw before butting up against them, meowing insistently. "I think you underestimate yourself, kitten, " she murmurs. "This little one is better off for knowing you."

Tim shakes his head. It had taken him a week to coax the kitten out of her hiding place, nightly visits to bring food and water, talking quietly to her. Maybe he's helped socialize her, but. "Will you take her?"

The kitten lets Catwoman pick her up, going limp and content in her hands as Catwoman scratches her ears. "On one condition," she says, lifting her head to pin Tim with a look.

Tim's eyes narrow. "What would that be?" he asks.

Catwoman smiles. "Tell me why you're up here so late at night."

And. Tim. Tim looks away. Thinks about it for a moment, and then glances down at his watch. Gotham's been quiet tonight, fewer sirens than usual. 

"I." Tim frowns. "You. Please don't tell anyone." It's futile to ask for a favor from a stranger, even more so from Catwoman, but. She's not like Gotham's other criminals. Batman gives her a certain kind of leeway the others don't get. 

The look on Catwoman's face says she clearly isn't making any promises, not that Tim expected her too. 

"You can see better over there," Tim says, pointing to a corner of the roof partially hidden in shadow. 

He gets another raised eyebrow for that, which makes him smile in return because yes, he knows, there's no reason for her to trust him either. 

"It's been quiet tonight," Tim explains. "They usually pass by around now."

A sharp look, but she follows when Tim starts for the corner, camera heavy around his neck. No pictures tonight, not with Catwoman here, but. Tim looks over his shoulder and sees Catwoman standing close behind him, the kitten curled up in her arms, eyes closed, still purring.

"There," he says, pointing. A minute, then two, pass and just when he thinks they won't show up, there's the sound of grapples hitting their mark, and a flash of color - Robin - followed by a swath of black - Batman. They fly by, unaware of their audience - and why would they be? Who would be stupid enough to chase after them? 

"You do this on a regular basis." Not a question.

"I - "

"No lies."

Tim sighs, hand gripping the camera strap around his neck. "Yes." Pauses. "When I can." There are times his parents are home, when they want to show Gotham just how happy the Drake family is. More often than not, though, he's out here, seeking out his hiding spots to watch Batman and Robin.

"Why?"

Tim. Tim can't. He doesn't have the words to explain, and it must show on his face because Catwoman's expression softens. 

"Never mind, kitten," she says, soothing. "Have they seen you?" And then, a scoffing laugh. "Of course they haven't," something almost bitter in her voice. "He'd never let it continue if they had."

No mistaking who she's talking about. "Kitten, you know it's dangerous." Gotham's always been dangerous, even before the Joker came, even before he other villains started to make themselves known. 

"I can take care of myself," Tim says, not false bravado so much as plain truth. He's smart, he can fight. He's not stupid enough to get within reach of Gotham's villains.

Catwoman sighs. "Oh, kitten, that's not what I meant."

Tim scowls. "I - "

"I know I can't stop you," she says, ignoring him. Looks down at the kitten in her arms, mouth curving in a pleased smile. "I'll make you a deal, kitten. I won't tell You-Know-Who or his little bird about this, if you promise to be careful." 

"I - "

" _Promise_ ," Catwoman says, voice gaining the edge of a growl. 

Tim's eyes widen. "I. Okay." Not as though he wouldn't be anyway, but. "I promise."

"Good," Catwoman says, back to her usual smooth purr. "Because I will foster this kitten until you can give her the home she deserves." There's a definite air of smugness in her demeanor now, eyes gleaming with mischief. "You wouldn't want to break her heart, now would you?" she asks, and as if on cue the kitten raises its head and looks right at him, meowing plaintively.

"Oh, God," Tim says, stunned by the blatant emotional manipulation. "Really?"

Catwoman smiles, like the cat with the canary. "Hmm. I think yes, really."

Tim sighs. "Okay, okay. I. Yes." He had no idea his night would turn out like this, but somehow he's not all that surprised. ( _Gotham_.)

"Excellent," Catwoman purrs. "Now lets go see what the intrepid duo are up to now, shall we?"

Tim stares at her, shocked. "...Really?"

"It's what you'd be doing anyway, isn't it?"

Tim nods. "I. Yes." (Tim _knows_ , he does. But.)

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Tim doesn't, it's just. "Don't you have other things you could be doing?" 

The smile he gets is gentle, kind. "Let's just say I seem to have a soft spot for strays and leave it at that, shall we?"

And. There are so many things Tim could say to that, but. But. "Okay," he says, quiet, shy. 

Catwoman's smile widens. "Good, now where do we go next?"

Tim blinks, goes through his mental map and factors in the current time and distance to the next likely spot to catch a glimpse of Batman and Robin. Catwoman's watching him, quiet, watchful, waiting for him to give them a direction to go in and. 

For once it isn't just him out here, and it's. It's _nice_. He shouldn't trust in it, knows better than do so, but. Just this once probably won't hurt.


End file.
